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Heartbeat: The Place of Dust
Heartbeat: The Place of Dust, is a serial story following an alternate version of Bara Magna. It is also planned to be followed by a "twin universe", Heartlight: The Place of Steel. Story Prologue The universe is an interesting place, is it not? It is like a cosmic sea, filled with a diverse batch of life and environments. You have carbon-based lifeforms, autonomous constructs, plants of wondrous colors, and so much more. You have shining stars, blazing suns, sleepless comets, majestic moons, breath-taking gas giants, and intricate planets. Each world has their own tastes, their own peoples, and their own wildlife. But that is only but the tip of the mountain. You see, the universe is not one reality, as most beings perceive it. Oh no, that is far from the case. What you see is but one reflection, a reflection from a gem of infinite sides. Imagine if you had done something differently, or nothing at all? Everything would’ve ended differently, everything would’ve changed. For the universe is an infinite collection of possibilities, an ocean of countless realities and timelines. Each so different, yet so similar, all working in perfect synchronicity. Each reality has their own history, as do the worlds within them. For every tale, there are the heroes and villains. The warriors and the average citizen. Two ideologies clashing against one another. The struggles within oneself. Stories of love and companionship. The short life and the impending death. But alas, it’s never black and white. Somewhere between them, this is grey. And as we all know, there are an infinite number of shades for each and every color. Then there are the colors we know and love (and hate). Each one has a grant number of different meanings and emotions. Red can represent love or hate. Blue can represent calamity or lack of emotion. The list goes on and on. And then the conflicts. They’re not always between good and evil. Sometimes one fights another for the sake of survival. Others believe that the ends justify the means. They do what they believe is the most logical thing. Sadly, they’re just as naïve as every other living (or occasionally dead or undead) being. Within a conflict, there’s always someone watching. There’s always someone that plots and schemes in the farthest corner or in the darkest shadows. There’s always the parasite that seeks to gain from all of this somehow. There’s always the conman that swindles and backstabs all of the players. While some rarely gain the chance, a few lucky false shepherds manage to take advantage of the situation. An even few beings manage to destroy all sides and take the playing board for themselves. But even they cannot stand the might of the universe. None can match the shear might of Mother Nature and the cosmos. Races die out as quick as they began and evolved. Cities toppled by the elements, villages eaten away by time. The seas dry and yield to the suns. What began with life ends with death. And then, there are those older than the universe. There are those whose presence would tear the space-time continuum to pieces. Nameless things that fester in the nothingness beyond the edge of reality. Entities that word can scarcely describe. Sights that would drive a being mad with but a simple glance or glimmer. This genre of tales has existed long before Time came to be. Long before Space brought order and chaos. It is a tale all fools have heard, in one way or another. And while the names and ideology has changed, one constant still remains: The universe is not a perfect place. Rather, it is constantly changing, never truly stable. And with each change, a ripple is felt across the cosmos. Some are more attuned to these waves than others. Some are minor and nearly nonexistent, others have shattered countless balances in one blow. One such force is making its way toward a barren wasteland. Once it was a paradise, like that of a child’s dreams. But ignorance and pride are a common couple, and reduced this world to dust. Those that survived now compete for whatever resources weren’t wasted in the war of the ego. And now, they’re about to be retaught a lesson in life: Not everything can be controlled by a mere being. How am I to make such a comment? Why do I criticize the naïve ideology most beings share? Very few know of my name, though names are meaningless at this point. Some refer to me as'' Shijian'', others Tethapa, and so much more. But my name of old still lingers among a few who still have some form of intelligence. I am Kairos. Keeper of Time, seer of the infinite possibilities, the All-Knower. And this is yet another tale of hardship and survival. A tale of fools resisting the cold reality of their meager existence. Another race destined to be forgotten in the sea of Time. This is the tale of how an empire fell before it could rise, how the ignorant finally saw their futility, and how one little mistake can cost one so much. Chapter 1 Bara Magna. Once, there was Spherus Magna, or “Great Paradise” as some my call it. But, as all paradises have, it was brought to ruin. It was reduced to sand and dust, with most of its resources becoming twin moons. Now they orbit this dead world, watching it rot away. So far, yet so close. Those that survived the apocalypse now struggle and fight amongst each other for survival. Somewhere within the wastelands, there was an outcast. He was once a soldier, who fought in the war of the fools. And while he survived, so did the ignorant. He became a tool of “''society''”, a gear in a soulless machine. And like broken piece of machinery, he was cast aside and replaced, left to rust. Now he is but a corpse, slowly rotting away at the corrosion known as "Time". Whatever wasn't decaying was slowly eaten away by the occasional pest. One such creature was clawing at the dead Glatorian's leg, trying to get at the meat inside. It wasn't juicy, and by no means smelt as such, but food was food. Before it could continue, though, there was a massive rumble. The sands were launched into the air, like a wave of water colliding with the earth. The animal had to cover its eyes, least it want to be blinded by the miniature sandstorm. When the dust cleared, the thing was presented with a curious sight. A massive crater had appeared, its shape reminiscent of a sinkhole. But when the scavenger ran to the edge, it wasn't the case. There, at the bottom of the hole, was a pink mass of someform. The creature slid down into the hole, its curiosity intrigued. The object appeared to a meteor of some kind, made from an unusual substance. When the pest pocked it, it felt soft and warm. It took the animal a moment to realize that it was organic. Unfortunately, it wouldn't have time to ponder further. Slender masses wrapped themselves around the animal, pulling it toward the fleshy rock. Once it was trapped, the pest felt a burning sensation. It turned its head in horror to notice that its body was.... melting. No, not just being melted... absorbed. Its biomass was being added to that of the meteor. Before the darkness took it, it noticed that a mouth was being formed. Once it was, it opened and revealed several needle-like teeth. And there, beneath those teeth, was a hideous eye. The creature and the mass joined as one, forming into an insectiod-shape. The fusion crawled its way out of the pit and near the corpse. Burrowing through the torso, it began the process. The body twitched, shedding its armor and mechanical implants. The arms were the first to change. One had its fingers grown into claws, the other became a fleshy scythe. The chest dissolved, revealing its warped rib-cage. The ribs became teeth, the hole between them a gaping mouth. It coughed out the body's metallic bones, a skull and spine among them. They were no longer of any use. The head's lower jaw fell off, or rather, was broken down to the cellular level. In their place was a collection of small dagger-like mandibles. The legs were twisted and bent, as if they were broken twigs. How it was able to walk, let alone stand, was beyond anyone's guess. The carcass rose from its makeshift grave, projecting a sound best described as a mix between gurgling and growling. The first thing it noticed was the massive sphere in the sky, burning like a torch. The second thing was this… strange unseen force brushing against its skinless flesh. What where these things, and what is this place? Where are the prey? The outsider noticed that this body still had its brain. Perhaps the answers lay there. The parasite tapped into its telepathic powers, diving into the past of its host. It was a lush and diverse world, with massive jungles, an endless sea, a winter wonderland, and so much more. What surprised the being was that this desert was once part of that world. Intrigued, it continued the journey. It saw more of the warrior’s kind, clashing over a glittering silver. The silver slithered out of the ground, tearing the world apart atom by atom. It didn’t take long for the apocalypse to come, and hit this world hard. The fools that led this world were lost, leaving the people divided and leaderless. Now they compete for resources in arenas, with the warriors fighting on behalf of these “tribes”. Those who weren’t were exiles or outlaws. A great plague had desolated one tribe, and another hasn’t been seen for quite some time. A third was reduced to nothing more than beasts, with the other four forming the arena system. Respectively, one was near an oasis, another surrounded by fire, one within a small jungle, and the last one in a frozen wasteland. The one of jungle would’ve practically made the alien drool. It heard the sands shifting in the real world. Someone or something was coming this way. Returning to reality, the creature quickly buried itself into the dune, allowing patches of its skin to show. If it was a lone scavenger, it can easily overwhelm them. If it wasn’t alone, then it would bid its time. It could hear them approaching it, and overheard their voices. If it had looked up, it would’ve seen that the figures were about half its height. It would’ve noticed that their leader rode on a beast twice its own height, with another close behind it. It would’ve noticed that their eyes were a fiery orange and their armor ebony. It would’ve seen two four-legged creatures pulling their own caravans, one for loot and one for prisoners. “Hey, HEY! Lookie over here!” Shouted a Bone Hunter. The rest of the gang of scavengers gathered around him, gazing down at the body. One eager member began collecting the scraps of armor around it, another looted its weapons. One more grabbed the helmet and mechanical implants. This was their luckiest day yet. Something about this bothered the leader, though. Something’s not right, he knew. “You there,” He pointed at one Hunter. “Dig up the grave.” Said minion raised an eyebrow. “What for? Ain’t like he’s still breathin’.” He remarked. “Trexkar here needs food,” replied with a devilish grin, petting his Rock Steed. The creature grunted in reply. This, of course, was just an excuse and not the real reason. There was something off about the corpse. Shrugging, the youngest bandit complied and began excavating the body. When he was about halfway done digging it up, he briefly brushed his finger against it. Instantly, he realized that it was missing its mechanical implants. He turned his head towards the outlaw that salvaged some earlier. He also noted that there was no skeleton present. Again, he looked toward the one that found the bones. He knew at that moment that something was amist about this. Not wanting to glance at the rest of it, he simply dragged the body out with his eyes closed. When he flipped it onto its back, only then did he risk a look. And he did, he couldn’t prevent a scream from escaping his lungs. The others turned from their occupations toward the source of the sound, each one sharing a similar reaction. Only the pack’s leader didn’t make a sound, though the look on his face spooked them even more. It told them that he was using all of his willpower not to so much as squeak. “What… in the name of the Great Beings… is that supposed to be!?” Said one of the Bone Hunters. Another shuttered. “Be-b-bea-ats me. Looks like somekinda experiment gone wuh-wuh-wrong.” “Energized Protodermis, perhaps?” Suggested another. “What makes you say that?” Replied another grunt. This time, it was the leader of the pack that spoke up. “Look at our loot.” Sure enough, everyone glanced down at their score. The weapons, the helm, the armor, even the bones and machinery. There was no doubt that they all once belong to… whoever this thing once was. Still, this didn’t explain its unworldly shape, though. Even if Energized Protodermis was involved, where would’ve this Glatorian found it at? Wasn’t most of it lost when their world ended? “So...” Croaked the youngest. “What do we do with it?” Their leader paused. Something was really off about this body. First off, its shape. It hardly looked like anything of this world. Second, what happened to it? Third, is the thing still alive? Could they use it was food? If not, a distraction, perhaps? After a minute of careful thought, he finally answered. “Dump it in with our prisoner. If it’s alive, at least we can contain it.” He said. He pointed toward one of the scavenagers. “You, grab the body and toss it into our patty wagon. We’ll have our weapons ready.” The chosen one gulped, and proceeded to walk toward the corpse. Reluctantly, he dragged the body towards the prison car. Another grunt, still armed, unlocked the door and helped his comrade dump the carcass in. He caught a glance at the prisoner: An Agori from the Jungle Tribe, chained to the other side. While his name still escapes him, he didn’t bother to stick round for long. Quickly he locked the caravan back up, sweat rolling down from beneath his helmet. “Alright, one of yawl take this Sand Stalker. You there, take the other and stay close. Keep an extra arm with you in case that thing tries anything. Cavon, you take Sagev.” Everybody did as they were told. The member named Cavon took the other Rock Steed, Sagev as he was called. The youngest took to the cargo and rode atop its Sand Stalker, with another riding in the wagon itself. The last one climbed up on the other one, though it wasn’t difficult to see the fear in his eyes. Everybody took their positon as they set off. The leader was in the front, Cavon was in the back, and the rest were in the middle. The one sitting in the loot wagon was holding a Force Blaster, ready to tumble anything that got in their way. Within his prison, the Agori opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was darkness. Then he caught the whiff of a deathly smell. His eyes narrowed, and he was able to make out the shape of a body. Judging from its still form, he assumed that it was dead. And from the size of things, it must’ve been a Glatorian. His eyes didn’t have the strength to remain open, though, and he drifted back into an empty sea of dreams. If he had examined the body further, he would’ve noticed its hideous form. If there was a tad bit more light in the prison… …he would’ve seen its unworldly eye glaring up at him... Chapter 2 It had a few days since the Bone Hunters found the strange corpse, rotting out in the desert. The days that passed were indeed some of the strangest in their lives. On the first day, they tried to feed it to their beasts. For some reason, though, they reared and protested against the idea. Even Trexkar, infamous for his ravenous appetite, refused to take a bite. Puzzled, they decided to feed a chunk to some random creature. A rat eventually came up and took a nip at the small piece. It quickly spat the piece out, and was about to run off. While it was turning, though, it froze. It reared its head up, as if it caught wind of some distant noise. It scurried toward the prisoners’ wagon, drawn to something unseen. It climbed into the cage, determined to find the source. Once inside, they could’ve sworn that they heard something sinking inside the caravan. When they peered inside, though, everything was fine. The rat, though, was nowhere to be seen. The rat wasn’t the only one to vanish, though. The next day, they could’ve sworn that they heard someone screaming. It didn’t take them long to recognize it as the Agori’s. Running toward the door, Cavon peered through the bars attached to the top of it. It was the only thing that allowed light to enter the wooden wagon. And when he glanced through them, he began to wish that they were never there. While he caught sight of the villager’s armor and implants, the being himself was nowhere to be seen. He did, however, notice a hulking shadow in the darkest corner. It took him less than a nanosecond to deduce its identity, and he sped off just as quick. The third day, or rather night, was when things REALLY got strange. It started out simple enough. The youngest wasn’t getting as much sleep as he usually would. At first, it was only an hour or two. But as the days passed, he were losing more and more hours of sleep. By the seventh day, he hadn’t had a single minute of sleep. None of them could figure out the reason. They just assumed that it was anxiety. On the eighth day, he just dozed off in broad daylight. Later that night, Cavon was having similar problems. By the seventeenth day, everyone’s had some trouble sleeping. One member assumed that they had caught the Dream Plague. However, that wasn’t the case, as everybody could still dream. In fact, they all had similar dreams. The dreams would often begin with them standing in the sands. The moonless night sky was littered with stars, each one a different color. Many of the colors, however, were alien and nameless. Not only that, but the stars with such colors formed strange constellations. From what they could make out, they saw an upside-down star with swirling marks around it, another shape was that of a massive eye. One figure was that of a headless Sand Bat, another of a great sea beast. And they all could’ve sworn that the constellations ''moved.'' ' ''Then, out of the darkness, seven spheres emerged and took orbit around the sky. Though they were cloaked by shadow, each Bone Hunter could vaguely make them out as planetoids. Then, the darkness screeched, as of a knife were digging into its ethereal flesh. That knife came in the form of spiked tendrils, slithering out of the nothingness and stretching toward the spheres. And there, not far behind them was… ''was…' ' The dreams ended at that point, sparing them from witnessing whatever thing lurked from the beyond. Though they only saw a tiny fragment of a shadow, it was more than enough to send a chill down their spines. By that point, they came to a grim conclusion: This thing was no mere beast. Whatever created the abomination was also trying to worm its way into their brains. They had to get rid of the body. The next day, they marched on toward the Dunes of Treason. It wasn’t exactly their first choice, considering the number of Vorox living in the area. But deep down however, they hoped that the fallen tribe would dispose of the outsider for them. They stopped at a nearby dune, ready to dump the waste back into its grave. Just as the Sand Stalkers advanced on the patty wagon, however, an explosion erupted between them. While they weren’t caught in the blast, it did sent them yelping over the hill. Whoever figured had meant to drive them away. The bandits soon found the culprit, much to their dismay. Bursting from the ground, Vorox and Zesk surrounded them. And there, emerging from the sands before their very feet, was a massive warrior. The exile bore crimson armor, with hints of yellow-orange and gray. He bore massive claws, with a blade attached to the outside of the right one. A Thornax launcher was attached to this shoulder, aimed right at them. And the look in his burning eyes and orange-red face was more than enough to make the youngest tremble. Before them was Malum, a raging beast exiled from the Fire Tribe for his lack of self-control. Before them was wrath and savagery incarnate. And right now, they were his prey. “Well, this is a disappointment,” He growled sinisterly. “I was hoping for a brawl with Fero. I have a bone or dozen to pick with him, after what he stole from me,” He made a step toward the cargo. “But I guess I’ll have to settle with you rats.” He made his way toward the cart, emitting an aura of dominance. “Hmm, wonder what sort of treasures are here?” He laughed. The youngest leapt at that point, putting himself between the Glatorian and the nameless horror. “What lies behind this door is by no means treasure,” He snapped, in a mixed tone of terror and anger. “If anything, the blasphemy behind this is a curse!” He spread out his arms at this point as well. “If you value your life- no, your SANITY- I beg you: ''DO NOT OPEN THE DOOR!” Malum raised an eyebrow. Value your sanity? He thought, noting the amount of fear in this raider. Either the Bone Hunter wasn’t right in the head, or something else wasn’t. If there’s one thing he learned about them, it’s that they aren’t easy to intimidate. He was deathly afraid of something alright, and it wasn’t of him. He decided to test this theory further. He stepped closer to the marauder. “Oh?” He said as he feigned arrogance. “And what would the curse be?” He added a wolfish grin at the sentence, further covering his true emotions. The lad stepped back at that point, backing up toward the door. That’s it, the raging bull thought. Nice and easy… ' “The curse of undeath,” Said the pack’s head, stepping toward the crimson one. Malum dropped the mask when those words fell from the little one’s lips. He figured that they were trying to bury something, but this…? “Undeath? What, the dead rise to eat the flesh of the living?” The one before him didn’t move. “Yes and no…” He replied simply. Those would be his last words, for when they slipped into the air, something seized him by the neck. The young one screamed as he was dragged by what appeared to be a swarm of tiny tendrils. What shocked them was that he was practically melting, armor and implants slowly sliding off. The bones were coughed out when he was reduced to nothing more than a fleshy blob, pulled through the grates and into the darkness. And within that darkness, they could’ve sworn that they heard something squishy sinking and slithering. And that something sliced its way through the wooden door, shattering it like glass as it charged. The thing that busted out, though, was not the mangled corpse the Bone Hunters tossed in earlier. What came out instead a quadruped mess of boneless limbs and fused skull-like heads. The wretched creature leapt at Sagev, tearing the Rock Steed apart. A couple of Vorox assaulted the thing, slicing off of of its tendrils. One, however, was felled by the monster’s teeth, and the other lost a stinger. Amoment later, though, the dead Vorox rose back on its feet. Right in front of everyone’s eyes, though, it quickly morphed into something else. The limbs and tail became spider-like legs, with the head dissolving away. A gappig mouth opened up at the top, with spiked tendrils slithering out of it. Another bandit was unfortunate enough to be devoured by the new thrall. Meanwhile, its master had claimed two more Vorox and Zesk. Malum couldn’t believe his eyes. His people, being devoured like some helpless prey. What shook him even more that was one was its thrall. Shaking his head, he made a quick direction. “Retreat!” He yelled, running the opposite direction. His pack followed close by, carrying the wounded as they fled. Malum looked back at the hunters and beasts. One was making a run for Tesera, the rest were dealing with the abominations. Their leader rode on his Rock Steed, though they too fell before the undead. Malum took advantage of the fight to leave a “parting gift” for everyone. Loading his launcher, he fire an over-ripen Thornax at the brawl. While the remaining Bone Hunter dodged the blast, the creatures weren’t so lucky. They were torn to pieces by the explosion, their limbs flying everywhere. And yet, those limbs were still twitching. Malum didn’t stick around for long when he noticed this, and the surviving Bone Hunters were long gone. Cavon continued his trek across the sands. He couldn’t believe it. In just mere seconds everything changed. Most of his team was whipped out, the only other survivor was separated from him, and they lost their supplies in the chaos. All he had was a mere dagger. In short, he might not last for long. Unless… He shook his head. No, he thought. They’d just kill me on sight. ' He seconded that thought, though. Right now, he had four options: Starve to death, find another pack of Bone Hunters, continue to Tesera, or be fed to the undead freaks. He chose the third one. If they don’t kill him, they’re likely to just lock him in some cage like an animal. If that were to happen, then at least he’d be safe from the horror. How wrong he would be, though. The thing had pulled itself back together, and had already set sights on the place of green. What’s more was that it had grown even larger, with two more thralls at its side. Darkness was setting, the sun has vanished for the time being. The decaying group marched onward, the smell of flesh and iron practically burnt into their minds. The puppets marched in the front, with their puppeteer behind them. '''''Soon, there would be a massacre of a feast. '''' Characters *Kairos (as the narrator) * The M'kulyth *Mudro (as a corpse) *A group of Bone Hunters **Cavon **The youngest member of the pack, deceased **The leader, deceased *Fero (mentioned only) *An unknown Agori captive *Malum *A pack of Vorox led by Malum **Two Vorox killed by the M'kulyth **A Zesk killed by the M'kulyth Trivia *This "Bipolar Universe" was inspired by the Carniverse and Remains Alternate Universe, and was influenced by videogame series such as Halo, Dead Space, and Half-life. Category:Stories Category:User:Ahpolki Inika